Creep
by Isabelle Montgomery
Summary: Spike goes to the Caritas for some advice and finds out something different. Song fic but it's cute. Please r/r


Disclaimer: Same old song and dance for Buffy and Angel. But Radiohead owns the song "creep" which I just think is awesome.

Authors Notes: I don't like song fics that much but the ones I do read are quiet entertaining. Anyhoo, when I heard this song on the radio I knew it had to be Spike's song. So, Enjoy!

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Nervously, Spike mounted the small stage that was in the front of the bar. Over the spotlight he couldn't see half the crowd that had gathered. They were all chatting and talking in the friendly atmosphere. He took the microphone offered to him with shaky hands. 

He mentally scolded himself for being nervous. It just wasn't his style. A few people stopped talking and stared at him, waiting. Spike was waiting too, for the music to start. A little man off to the side of the stage waved him over and whispered into Spike's ear.

He wanted to slap his forehead with his idiocy. Once again he took the stage, but this time he knew to press the little button on the prompter to start the song. When the music began most people quieted down. 

The tune started its slow sensuous melody. The music immediately soothed his grating nerves. For a moment he closed his eyes and imagined he was back in his crypt listening and singing to the radio. The other noise of the bar fell away and he was left alone with the music. Alone with his thoughts and a melody behind them. He opened his eyes. 

" When you were here before," he sang, thinking of Buffy as he did every time he heard this song lately. 

"Couldn't look you in the eye,

You're just like an angel,

Your skin makes me cry,

You float like a feather,

In a beautiful world,

I wish I was special," His voice grew in resonance and volume, until he was almost shouting the next lines. The song became powerful and heavy.

" You're so fucking special…

But I'm a creep,

I'm a weirdo,

What the hell am I doing here?

I don't belong here, " The thought of Sunnydale and the Scooby Gang popped into his brain. The pain that had been building up for the past two years inside of him was coming through the song. The words he sang held true to him, almost like a confession. The melody lightened again. 

" I don't care if it hurts,

I want to have control,

I want a perfect body,

I want a perfect soul,

I want you to notice when I'm not around," The words were so full of emotion he almost lost himself. His anger turned and burst out in the heat of the song.

" You're so fucking special,

I wish I was special,

But I'm I creep,

I'm a weirdo,

What the hell am I doing here? 

I don't belong here…" His low voice became high to mimic the song and again he closed his eyes, giving up to emotion. 

" She's running out again,

She's running out,

She runs runs runs…" he knew the rest of the song by his long dead heart. 

" Whatever makes you happy,

Whatever you want,

You're so fucking special," He spat the lyrics then, the insult in them coming out. 

"I wish I was special, 

But I'm a creep,

I'm a weirdo,

What the hell am I doing here?

I don't belong here," the song slowed. Spike's emotion was fading, having been spent screaming the song. 

"I don't belong here." The song ended. He forgot where he was for a moment when he opened his eyes. Silence covered the bar then suddenly applause broke out. Some people were standing and applauding him. He immediately smiled. Deep down he knew he always should have started a band. The Host staggered up to the stage and introduced the next singer. Without saying a word to Spike he guided him off the stage to little room next to it. They sat down at the table inside the room.

" Wow," The Host said, wiping his damp face. " I-I don't know what to say. Oh, my Gods, you've moved me to silence!" he said incredulously. Spike smiled faintly. His body was still on a high from his performance. But he gave the appearance he really didn't care. 

" What did you see?" The Host took a moment and looked him over. 

" It's strange really, you don't have a soul right?" Spike nodded. " Well, baby cakes, I saw lots of things and that only happens with a soul" Spike was dumbstruck, the words not really registering in his mind. 

" I have never seen a more poetic, sensitive, and innocent soul as yours. I–" 

" Wait, wait." Spike cut in. " I have a soul? And it's innocent?" The host nodded, not in the least perturbed by the interruption 

" How the hell can I have a soul for one, and two, how in the bleeding hell can it be innocent." This was not what Spike had expected. He didn't really know what to expect, but this was not it. The Host smiled. 

" Haven't you noticed that you have more emotions lately? Guilt and remorse for example." He was right; he had been carrying around new emotions for a while now. " Do you know why?" Spike shook his head. 

" Because you have a soul." 

" But how?" Spike said. " I wasn't cursed like Peaches or anything." 

" No, but you were operated on." The realization hit him. 

" This sodding chip? How?" 

" The answer is simple, dear. It changed you so much and made you even more human day by day. So in that way you redeemed your soul." 

" That's it? All I had to do was become more human and I get a soul?" The Host nodded. Spike was still unclear on the whole, 'Spike's got a soul now whoopee!' idea, but he decided to move on. 

" You said it's innocent?" the Host nodded. " How can it be innocent? I have maimed and killed souls for over a century! I eat people for Christ's sakes!"

" But you are innocent, don't you see?" Spike just stared at him. "Look, in my opinion you're pure evil. You have to understand that innocence is not the lack of experience or knowledge. It's the realization that there is nothing you can do to be the way you are except to just be and take what comes your way. You've done this throughout your unlife. And having a soul makes it even more pure." Spike did not like these words, "pure", "innocent", "human". In truth they scared him. 

" Take your love life for example." Spike was taken aback. –How would he know about my love life? - He thought. " You were slapped around by a nineteenth century aristocrat, then killed made into a Vamp by Drusilla, who dumped you in South America, now you love a Slayer of all people." Spike was surprised to say the least. 

" You saw all that when I sang?" 

" Yep, I think that's what brought me to tears along with your wonderful voice. You love without reason and right now you're damned for it." Spike hung his head low with the truth in his words. 

" Uh oh. Looks like our time is up. " The Host said right before a song ended on stage. " oh, and I think you should have started a band too." He said as he rose from the table. Spike got up as well, but he was leaving. 

-Better just to leave and forget this whole encounter. - Spike thought. He left Caritas with a feeling of depression and exhilaration, thinking, -Hey, maybe I should start a band. - .

The End 


End file.
